


Hats, Pervs and Pre-Paid Legal

by xmarisolx



Category: The Office (US)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-31
Updated: 2011-01-31
Packaged: 2017-10-15 06:45:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/158112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xmarisolx/pseuds/xmarisolx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because Ryan’s not letting Kelly go out like that.  Written for the Shiny, Happy Comment Ficathon STRIKES BACK.  Prompt: The Office - Ryan/Kelly - In which Ryan fights to defend Kelly's honor</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hats, Pervs and Pre-Paid Legal

**Author's Note:**

> Genre: Pure Insanity, the only genre that Ryan and Kelly fit into  
> Disclaimer: It is with a heavy heart that I admit that the exclusive rights to The Office aren't mine, nor will they ever be. If this is news to you, we have bigger fish to fry.  
> Feedback: Welcomed with open arms… and toes.

It was Saturday afternoon and Ryan found himself walking around Scranton Town Center, the kind of fine-shop/eatery/luxury-apartment complexes that were popping up all over the US.  It was basically a glorified strip mall and, to Ryan, they were all a lame excuse for New York City.

 

Which, sadly, still ended up being better than lame everywhere else.

 

“Ooh, ooh, ooh,” Kelly shrieked, because Kelly was there too—with her hand tucked under his arm.

 

Ryan looked around for something interesting, and… came up with nothing.  “What is it?” he asked.

 

“Let’s go to Victoria’s Secret!”

 

“We’ve already gone there three times this month,” he grumbled.  “You’ve already bought everything that they have that you want.”  He paused.  “Oh and you owe me $17 for those Wonder Woman panties.”

 

“You aren’t getting that money back, Ryan. Consider it a gift to yourself.”

 

“That’s not what you said when you bought it Kelly,” he countered, but something else had already caught her attention.

 

“Ooh, ooh, ooh,” she squealed.  “Let’s go in the men’s store and you can try on hats.”

 

“Um… let’s not,” Ryan declined.  “How about we go into Game Stop and pre-order Killzone 3.”

 

“But I thought you loved trying on hats.”

 

“No, _you_ love me trying on hats and I made the mistake of indulging you once.”

 

“But you looked so adorable in all those fedoras and newsboys.”

 

“Actually I looked desperate and whipped.  I’m not going in there.”

 

“Never mind; I just remembered I can’t go in there anyway.”

 

“Why not?”

 

She pulled away, stomped her foot and balled up her fists.  “I just can’t. OK Ryan?” she screamed.  “Why are you so damn pushy?!”

 

His interest piqued, Ryan stopped walking.  “Seriously, why can’t you go in there?”

 

“I just _caaaaan’t_ ,” she howled, and collapsed into raucous tears.

 

Taking her arm, he walked her briskly into the lobby of one of the public restrooms, and ducked around a corner.

 

“Kelly, what did you do?”

 

“I didn’t do anything,” she said, regaining some composure.

 

“Kelly, I thought we had talked about shoplifting,” Ryan whispered.  “Without getting caught.”

 

“I didn’t steal anything OK.  God, you’re such a jerk!”

 

“Then what’s going on, Kelly?”

 

“Fine.  I went there last Wednesday to find you a gift for our Hook-Up Anniversary and a Valentine’s Day gift since they are both coming up.”

 

“Which reminds me, I’ve been meaning to tell you that this year I _might_ have to consolidate those.  Or eliminate them.”

 

“Anyway, while I was shopping, one of the salesmen walked up to me and told me that I had a hot ass.”

 

Ryan nodded, smiling smugly.  “That’s my girl.”

 

“Well I told him to go to hell.”

 

“That was rude.”

 

“And then he told me that I could have whatever I wanted in the store for free if I showed him my tatas.”

 

“Tatas?”

 

“I know, right? He could have at least said rack.”

 

“So, what did you do?”

 

“ _What did I do?_   I followed him back to the office, and then when he closed the door I grabbed his junk and wouldn’t let go until his was in the fetal position on the floor crying.  Then I walked onto the floor and kept shopping.”

 

“Nice.”

 

“Yeah, but in the chaos of it all, I left my purse in the office and he planted a tie in it, which he then told his manager I had stolen.  When I explained to the manager that I would never steal _anything_ in a paisley print, like _ever_ (gross) the manager said that I was banned from the store and called security.  I told him I’d been thrown out of better places and walked out.”

 

“Hold on, you left?”

 

“I wasn’t going to wait around to get molested by some 70-year-old security guard.”

 

“Without even telling him about the tata incident?”

 

“Please, I could tell he was a skeeve.  He would have just got off on it.”

 

“We’re going back,” Ryan said and grabbed Kelly’s arm.

 

“Why? I don’t even care,” Kelly protested as she was dragged down the pavement.

 

“You’re not going out like that,” Ryan said as he burst through the front doors.  “Good evening gentlemen,” he cried out.  The smattering of customers and employees turned their heads; one salesman covered his crotch.  “Can I please speak to the owner?”

 

“Um, he’s not here,” the other salesman said, approaching.  “But my name is Stewart.  Can I help you?”

 

The other salesman began to point vigorously.  “She’s banned from the store!” he yelled.

 

“That’s the guy, Ryan,” Kelly shrieked.

 

“Don’t talk,” Ryan commanded her firmly.  He turned back to Stewart. “May we meet in private?”

 

“Um, I’m afraid not.  What is the nature of your visit this evening?”

 

“A potential lawsuit for sexual harassment and unlawful ejection from a business establishment.”

 

“And racism,” Kelly added.

 

“Follow me,” Stewart said and led them to the back. 

 

“I said no talking,” Ryan whispered between grit teeth as they followed Stewart.

 

“Got it,” Kelly nodded. They arrived at an office next to the employee restroom.

 

“Please, have a seat.” Stewart said, motioning towards the two chairs in front of a desk.  They all sat down.

 

“My name is Benjamin P. Nider III,” Ryan began.  He pulled out one of the business cards that he had gotten from one of his Pre-paid Legal attorneys, and handed it to Stewart.

 

“Nice touch,” Kelly beamed.

 

“Shut up,” Ryan mumbled.  “Now, Stewart, do you have an employee here by the name of…” he turned to Kelly.  Smiling brightly, she made the motion of zipping her lips then winked.  “Ms. Kapoor, what was the sale associate’s name?”

 

“Something vampirey,” she said, “Like Edward or Damon or... I know what it was. Bill.”

 

“Bill?” Steward repeated.

 

“You know, like on _True Blood_?”

 

“Thank you,” Ryan said.  “Stewart, do you have an employee by that name?”

 

“We… do,” Stewart answered.  “Bill Fisk.”

 

“Well,” Ryan continued.  “You see, my client, Kelly Rajnigandha Kapoor, informed me that last Wednesday, she entered this establishment to make a purchase—“

 

“Two purchases,” she corrected.  Ryan just glared at her.

 

“ _Two_ purchases when she was approached by Mr. Fisk and told that she had —and I quote—‘a nice ass’.”

 

Stewart gasped.

 

“And there’s more.  After she rebuffed his advances, he told her that he would give her a sizeable discount on her merchandise on the condition that she would show him her breasts.”

 

“That can’t be true,” Stewart said.

 

  

  1. “There’s more.   You see, the woman to my right was then led into the very office we’re sitting in now and, upon being further assaulted by your staff member, was left no choice but to physically subdue the assailant—I mean _salesman_ —only to be framed and ejected from the store on charges of shoplifting, charges which Mr. Fisk had orchestrated.”
  



 

Stewart sighed, and then pushed a button on his phone.

 

“Bill Fisk to the office, Bill Fisk to the office,” he announced.  Moments later Bill appeared, sweaty and ittery.

 

“Perv,” Kelly muttered.

 

“Bill,” Stewart said.  “If I wind back the security footage to last Wednesday, will I find that you sexually harassed one of our, ahem, customers?”

 

Bill stood paralyzed. “I don’t know.”

 

“He doesn’t know,” Ryan repeated mockingly.  “With that statement, I think we can proceed directly to compensation.  Look, my client no more wants a drawn out court case than you do.  I also imagine that you wouldn’t like the bad publicity that a legal battle could incite.  Therefore, I believe we _both_ would find it preferable to settle this out of court.  We can write up some arrangement for free menswear for a year—”

 

“Two years,” Kelly interjected.

 

“…or $5000 plus legal fees,” Ryan offered.  He turned to Bill.  “And, of course, my client’s face must be taken off of the front door.”

 

Just then, in walked a tall man, presumably in his 50s with an ample girth and salt-and-pepper hair.  “What the hell is going on in here?” he roared.

 

Stewart rose.  “I’m sorry, Mr. Donovan.  Apparently this lawyer has informed us that Bill, here, sexually harassed his client.”

 

“Yes,” Ryan said, rising.  “I am Attorney Benjamin P. Nider III, and—“

 

“No you aren’t,” Donovan said.  “I play golf with him the first Saturday of every month.  And _you_ are definitely not him.”

 

Ryan choked.  “Did I say Benjamin P. Nider III?  I meant,” he scrambled through his wallet.  “Attorney Able Tyson?”

 

Mr. Donovan shook his head.  “You ain’t him either.”

 

“How about his son?”

 

Mr. Donovan positioned himself three inches away from Ryan’s nose.  “You have five seconds to get the hell out of my store.  Five…”

 

Ryan grabbed Kelly’s hand and they bolted for the door.  They ran all the way back to his car before they even slowed down.  After climbing in, they stared at each other several moments—winded and breathing hard—before saying anything.

 

“That was AWESOME!” Kelly shrieked.  “I love you Ryan Bailey Howard.”  She threw her arms around his neck. “Oh my god.  That is _so_ going on my application to be on _Bridezillas_.”

 

“I thought we agreed you would go on _The Bachelor_.”

 

“But I don’t want to be with anybody other than you.”  She leaned over and gave him a kiss, which he talked through.

 

“Kelly there’s no chance a brown girl is going to make it past week three, but at least you’ll get enough exposure for us to have a chance of getting on _The_ _Amazing Race_.”

 

“I am not eating any bugs Ryan; you’re out of your mind.”

 

“Kelly, that’s _Survivor_.”

 

“It doesn’t matter, because I’m applying for _Bridezillas_.  Then I’ll get my wedding dress free.”

 

Ryan was about to tell her that she was mistaken, but instead watched as Stewart posted his picture on the front door next to Kelly’s.  That little infraction might cost him his chance of being on _The Apprentice_.

 

There was no way she was getting out of sex tonight.


End file.
